


It's only temporary

by Nami



Category: Bleach
Genre: Humor, M/M, Mention of sex, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nami/pseuds/Nami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of Substitute Shinigami is hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's only temporary

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [“Between us”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/648703). I tried to make it funny, but apparently “funny fics” aren't my thing. Please, forgive me -.-'

**It's only temporary**

“It's only temporary.”

“Temporary.”

“Yes. When my family stops hiring assassins, we will go.”

“Assassins.”

“Has he been always so dumb?” Grimmjow points at Ichigo, smiling at the boy's scowl. “Anyway, suck it up, shinigami. We aren't going anywhere.”

That's it. He didn't bat an eye when they had told him they were together. He even helped by asking Urahara to open Garganta for Grimmjow; after all, Byakuya couldn't use the same one that brought him to Hueco Mundo, and just pop into Seireitei with Grimmjow. Plus Arrancar was too weak to open one. But this? No.

“B-but this is my room! You can't stay here!”

“Actually,” Byakuya stops putting his robes into Ichigo's closet - how can he own so many clothes? - and looks at Kurosaki with steel in his eyes, “we can. You are a substitute shinigami, and you have to help a shinigami who asks for help. I'm... asking.” The last word was visibly hard for Kuchiki to say and Grimmjow chuckles, stretching himself on Ichigo's bed.

“Now go and make a sandwich, shinigami. I'm hungry.”

“You are kidding me!” Ichigo shrieks, throwing himself on the blue-haired man, bloodthirsty. “Do it yourself!” He yells, trying to punch his opponent. “I'm not your housekeeper!”

Arrancar easily avoids his attack and pushes him from the bed, his reiatsu spiking dangerously when he sits, looking at the teenager. “Do you want to fight me, shinigami?”

“It's 'Ichigo' not 'shinigami', bastard!”

“Be happy I don't call you 'strawberry', punk.”

“You...!”

“That's enough.” Byakuya's voice is barely louder than a whisper, but both men are quiet in a second. “You two need to control yourself better, do you understand?” Kuchiki's reiatsu brushes against them, cold as a snowstorm, as if a threat. _Try to disagree and we will talk differently_. Ichigo nods his head slowly – he doesn't want destroyed furniture, _again_ \- and Grimmjow snorts, but doesn't say anything. “Good. Ichigo, if you would be so nice as to make me some tea, I would appreciate it gladly.”

“You don't have to hurry.” Arrancar lies on the bed again, staring at Byakuya with hunger in his eyes and... _Tell me he didn't lick his lips, please. I'm going to have nightmares!_ , thinks Ichigo, panicked. _Please_. “I like when you get so bossy, Byakuya,” Grimmjow purrs, looking like a predator ready to strike his victim.

Ichigo is in the corridor in a heartbeat.

Through the wooden door he hears something like ' _You should try to control yourself better_ ', ' _Why? You are my prey_ ' followed by ' _Chire, Senbonzakura_ '. There is a sound like a body being hit by something hard and... _Gods no, they aren't doing this... are they?_

The teenager blushes so hard he thinks he will die from it. It sounds like yes, his quests decided to... entertain themselves.

“Ichigo?”

The substitute shinigami stops banging his head against the wall – Why is it always him? Is he Fate's favorite punching bag? - to look at his sister. “Karin? What do you...?” Then he notices that her eyes are above his shoulder, looking at the door to his room, and he suddenly remembers: she can see and hear ghosts too... And _this_ moan is hard to miss - who would think that Grimmjow is capable of making sounds like that anyway?

“I think you should go downstairs.”

The girl nods, almost as red as her brother, knowing better to ask any questions. Ichigo follows her, hoping that the couch in the living room is at least in half as comfortable as his bed.


End file.
